Purr

by Paisley Smith

  “Yes, my Mistress,” Arabella managed, her voice faltering.

  “Very well,” the komtesse said, rising. “The initiations will take place tomorrow.”

  Her wide skirts brushed Arabella’s legs as she passed by on the way out of the den. Arabella stared after her, painfully aware of the hateful looks shot at her by the other attendants, many of whom had been at Katzenhalle far longer.

  Immediately Karin began to gloat. She clapped her hands together and squealed with delight. “I’m to be a kitten! I’m to be a kitten!”

  Eva, the girl who’d trained Arabella, snorted. “I’ve been here months longer than either of you.”

  Helga appeared. “There’ll be no arguing. The komtesse has made her choices.”

  Dejected, Eva sulked out of the den.

  Arabella gazed at the dais, suddenly terrified of what was to come. Images of Petra—bent to receive all manner of erotic punishments—filled her thoughts. The initiation had seemed sensual to watch. Receiving would be an entirely different matter.

  Pity flashed in Helga’s eyes.

  “I couldn’t have denied her, could I?” Arabella asked brazenly.

  “No,” Helga muttered.

  * * * * *

  Arabella lay awake, staring at the ceiling. No matter how tired she was, sleep would not come.

  A soft knock sounded on her door before it opened and Giselle’s nude silhouette appeared.

  Sitting, Arabella gasped. “Come in before anyone sees you,” she whispered.

  Giselle closed the door behind her. “What are you thinking? You can’t become a kitten!” Her face looked stricken.

  “She singled me out. I didn’t feel as if I had a choice,” Arabella defended.

  Raking her fingers through her lustrous locks, Giselle sighed. “I suppose not. But it will make it far more difficult to escape.”

  Arabella stood and closed the distance between them. She covered Giselle’s lips with her fingers. “Hush. Would you want anyone to hear you?”

  She removed her fingers and Giselle shook her head. “It’s just that…that I can’t bear the thought of another woman putting her hands on you.”

  “Do you mean that?” Arabella asked.

  Giselle tucked a strand of hair behind Arabella’s ear. “Yes.”

  Arabella couldn’t help herself. In spite of the rules, she brushed her lips against Giselle’s, softly at first and then with bruising force. Arabella wanted out of her night rail. She wanted to feel the kitten’s skin against her own, to touch and kiss every inch of her body, to taste a woman’s sex for the first time in her life.

  Ending the kiss, Arabella pulled her garment over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  “If we’re discovered, we’ll be killed,” Giselle said, even as she moved toward the small bed.

  Arabella did not respond. Any words that came to mind only sounded melodramatic and reckless. Instead, she moved over the other woman’s body and kissed her. Her skin felt like smooth satin, her lips like the softest rose petals. She wanted to know this sweetness, this innocent coming together of two women without the forbidden dictates of the den.

  Her palm swept across a pebbled nipple and she lingered there to knead the taut bud before skimming downward to delve between Giselle’s legs. She slid a finger through the moist folds and into the opening.

  Seizing Arabella’s hand and holding it tightly against her, Giselle sucked in a breath and began to rock her hips. She muttered things in French that Arabella didn’t understand.

  “Taste me.” She breathed the words. “I want your mouth on me.”

  Arabella didn’t hesitate. She moved down the lithe body and buried her face in the soft thatch of hair. Using her fingers to open the folds, she laved the lush cunny spread wide for her, thrusting her tongue into the opening, dipping lower to tease the taut rosette and then licking her way back up to the ripe clitoris. The kitten tasted sweet. So, so sweet. Arabella could lose herself between this woman’s legs, consequences be damned.

  Giselle’s fingers threaded into her hair and held it back. Her legs trembled. Her back arched and dipped and finally, she pushed up with her toes and ground her cunny against Arabella’s mouth. Erotic moans spilled from the kitten’s lips and her body jerked as rapture claimed her.

  Joy filled Arabella that she’d brought her lover to this pleasure. She kissed her way back up to Giselle’s mouth and took her fill of it, caressing her body, her breasts, her curves. Desire burned like an out of control fire and her emotions ran wild. The possibility of love brimmed and ran over. Tears spilled from Arabella’s eyes and she straddled her lover.

  “I want to ride your fingers,” Arabella pleaded softly. “I want to feel them inside me.”

  Hovering, Arabella gazed into her lover’s eyes as a finger stroked her opening. She braced herself as the pressure intensified—and then went away altogether. Disappointment flashed through Arabella.

  “I can’t, darling,” Giselle cooed.

  “Why not?” Arabella blinked away tears.

  “The komtesse would know you were no longer a virgin. It would be too dangerous.”

  Arabella could not be still. Frustration inundated her. She clenched her teeth, aching to move, to assuage this lust that had all but driven her insane since her arrival at Katzenhalle. Whimpering her regret, she planted her hands on the mattress on either side of Giselle’s shoulders and began to rock, rubbing her cunny against her lover’s fingers.

  The threat of tomorrow’s initiation, of what might happen if they were discovered, faded until there was only this moment with Giselle, this magical feeling coming from another’s touch.

  Sensitive tissue awakened in Giselle’s capable hand. Arabella had never felt anything so good. Bliss lurked near and she could not resist giving herself completely over to it. Her channel seized against its own emptiness. Her breath caught and ecstasy sparked, setting off a charge that fired through her body, leaving her limbs, her fingers and toes, even her scalp tingling with pleasure.

  She sagged over Giselle and kissed her deeply. Every touch, every kiss Arabella had known until now paled in comparison to what she had just shared with Giselle.

  “Let’s leave this place tonight,” Arabella whispered.

  Giselle cupped her face. “Tonight? But how? We’re not prepared.”

  Disappointment weighed on Arabella’s heart. It was true. They weren’t ready to strike out and make good on an escape. They would need provisions and clothing. For the most part, the kittens were kept nude and the attendants were only allowed one costume at a time. It frightened Arabella how easily she’d been drawn into the komtesse’s tangle of deceit. A tear coursed down her cheek and Giselle brushed it away with her thumb.

  “I don’t want to go through the initiation tomorrow,” Arabella squeaked.

  “I know,” Giselle said, drawing her into an embrace. “I know.”

  Arabella’s brain raced for a solution. She pushed up far enough to look into her lover’s eyes. “Will they perform the initiations simultaneously?”

  “I don’t know. The komtesse has never before chosen two kittens at once.”

  “Everyone will be at the initiation. If Karin goes first, perhaps we can escape during the melee,” Arabella suggested.

  Giselle mulled it over. “I don’t know. The komtesse would know if I was gone.”

  “You managed to leave for a few moments before. Suppose we used that chance to escape.”

  “What about the guards? They don’t attend the ceremony.”

  Hopes dashed, Arabella heaved a sigh. “That’s true. Though the ceremonies are our only hope to evade Gudrun.”

  “I agree.”

  Again, the taboo delights Petra had experienced flashed through Arabella’s mind. She too felt she wouldn’t be able to withstand the very public spectacle. “How did you fare at the initiation?”

  “I bore it,” Giselle replied simply. Something bleak flashed in her eyes that caused Arabella’s heart to ache. �
�I continue to bear similar punishments in the komtesse’s chambers.”

  “We will get out of this place. Together,” Arabella said.

  * * * * *

  Arabella peeped out from the antechamber as a smiling, naked Karin ascended the dais. Cheers resounded, followed by the komtesse’s rite of initiation, to which Karin heartily agreed before turning and bending to receive her paddling.

  Arabella’s feet refused to work but she knew she had to tear herself from the erotic site and search for a chink in Katzenhalle’s formidable armor. No one was watching—her, anyway. She took two steps back before whirling and racing out into the hall. If anyone happened upon her, she would attribute her mad dash to nerves.

  There was only one unlocked door at the front of the villa. All the windows were barred. She looked out over the back gardens. A high stone wall surrounded the vast lawn. When she’d first come here, she’d guessed all the protection was for the inhabitants of Katzenhalle. She’d guessed wrong. Escape seemed hopeless.

  “What are you doing out here?” Gudrun’s low voice boomed in the hallway.

  “Trying to calm my nerves,” Arabella admitted.

  Gudrun marched toward her, clapped a meaty paw on her shoulder and ushered her back toward the antechamber. “Come. You are to receive your rites whilst Karin is in the stool chamber.”

  Panic blossomed. Arabella’s heart felt as if it were beating in her throat. Blood rushed so fast and thick through her veins, she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. Her eyes watered and everything became a blur as the catwomen took her from Gudrun and escorted her onto the dais.

  Arabella glanced at Giselle. It was a mistake. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t possibly endure this. Every eye in the den was upon her naked form.

  She could barely utter the words when the komtesse recited the rite of passage. Time flew at breakneck speed as one of the masked women turned her and placed her hands on the low table. Shame flamed in her face as she realized she was bending with her bottom high in the air, her most vulnerable parts exposed for all to see.

  The paddle swished and landed with a sharp smack on her bottom. Arabella whimpered as the blow ignited her senses. In spite of everything, blood pulsed in her clitoris and she realized she was actually on tiptoe in anticipation of the next swat.

  It fell on the opposite cheek, sending an erotic blazing fire through her loins. Control eddied away. She could do nothing but withstand this…experience this.

  “Again!” the komtesse ordered.

  Arabella held her breath and received the paddle’s smack. She exhaled as the sting bloomed into a warm, sensual throb.

  When the catwomen began petting and rubbing her bottom, Arabella thought she might orgasm from the contrasting pain and pleasure. The cheering crowd melted away. Her eyes closed as she sank deeper within.

  A firm nudge against her anus rudely brought her back to reality.

  The enema!

  “Oh God, no,” she heard herself whisper but the nozzle was already sliding into place. She gritted her teeth against the biting pain as her rim stretched to admit the thick spout, and once her sphincter closed around the mouth of the device, her inner muscles throbbed against the wicked intrusion.

  She clawed at the table, fighting the natural urge to reach behind and dislodge the apparatus. The tube slapped against the back of her thigh as one of the women fastened it to the water bag. Arabella glanced at the bulging sack. She’d never be able to take all that. Her mouth went dry.

  She tried to remind herself that many of the kittens welcomed this procedure, and even drew pleasure from it. But somehow she doubted she would.

  The clamp clicked and the bag gurgled and in seconds, water trickled into Arabella’s bottom. The feeling was not unpleasant. In fact, she found it exhilarating. Still, her legs trembled as the fullness became too much and she struggled to fight the urge to release. Just when she thought she could bear no more, fingers searched between her legs and began to massage her clitoris.

  Sensation bloomed.

  She rocked wildly against the hand, driven by uncontrollable desire. Her sudden climax overwhelmed her. Shattered her. She cried out as her cunny clenched around its own emptiness and her ass spasmed around the nozzle. She’d never imagined such pleasure as swell upon swell crashed over her.

  But it quickly ended when one of the catwomen removed the nozzle. Arabella’s physical urge to eliminate returned with a vengeance and she raced, close-kneed, from the dais to the stool closet.

  After her initial purge, she sat weak-legged and shaking. She clutched the wooden bench, startled when it wiggled slightly. Leaning to the side, she looked down to see a narrow opening…

  And the river below.

  A plan began to take shape in her head.

  When she had completely released the water, two attendants quickly bathed her and sent her back to the dais. Even as she was bent over the table and restrained, her thoughts snaked around the idea that the bench could be removed. It wasn’t too far a drop into the river. Of course, they would have to somehow get serviceable clothing and try to get it outside Katzenhalle without dropping it in the river. And money. How could they get passage to France short of stealing horses?

  She bit back a pained cry as fingers slipped into her channel, breaking past her barrier to ease the passage of the leather phallus. All thoughts of escape fled and Arabella’s gaze found Giselle’s as the cock slid inside. Just last night Arabella had wanted Giselle’s fingers inside her. Her touch would have been gentle; this invasion felt strange and intrusive. She gritted her teeth as the device stretched and filled her. But no sooner than it claimed her, the thing withdrew.

  Perspiration beaded her forehead and upper lip. Her spine misted with sweat. The onlookers cheered.

  Giselle’s gaze diverted but Arabella could not twist to see what had caught her lover’s attention. One of the catwomen began to coat her sensitive rosette with a greasy substance as Giselle crawled on hands and knees out of Arabella’s sight.

  The komtesse! That bitch! Hard shards of jealousy exploded in Arabella’s breast. She struggled against the chains binding her wrists as one, then two fingers breached her rim and invaded her. Her arousal warred with heartbreaking need for Giselle. Tears formed in Arabella’s eyes as the phallus nudged her bottom. The tip slid in and out, teasing her, readying her. More intruded, but the expert catwoman knew just how much pressure to apply.

  No matter how hard Arabella tried to cling to her anger that the komtesse was, at this very moment, claiming her lover, she could not concentrate on anything but the easy slide of the thick phallus filling her bottom.

  She sucked in a breath through her teeth and then blew it out slowly as her body adjusted to the deep penetration. This was no finger. Nor was it a nozzle. Her blood heated. Her inner muscles throbbed around the slippery leather. Lashes fluttering closed, Arabella rested her head on the wood and allowed herself to experience the taboo pleasure of being fucked in the bottom in front of a hundred onlookers.

  Fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips and the catwoman pumped slowly but deliberately. The other catwoman reached between her legs and stroked her mons until Arabella began to rock, intent on achieving climax.

  Her head lifted and her mouth opened. Low moans spilled from her lips. Her arms pulled hard on the chains, the burn in her muscles only adding to the combatant sensations of pleasure and pain radiating throughout her body.

  Orgasm slammed over her again and when the last vestige of it shadowed away, the kittens lined up to complete the initiation. Some touched her, plunging their fingers inside her cunny, her ass. Some swatted her with the paddle. Others seized her by the hair and lifted her head, pushing her mouth between their legs. Fingers plucked at her nipples.

  Faces disappeared until all that remained were bodies, fingers, mouths, cunnies.

  The muscles in the back of her neck ached as she strained to taste each one thrust before her. Her channel grew deliciously sore as t
ime and time again the lusty kittens brought her to orgasm.

  At the end of the initiation, she walked on trembling legs to the preparation room and flopped down on the first table she came to.

  “Well done.”

  Giselle’s whisper brought Arabella back to life. “I have a plan,” she returned quickly.

  Giselle stared but only for a moment before she moved to mount her own table.

  Arabella was too tired to think anymore. She closed her eyes as her attendant began massaging scented oils into her tired muscles.

  When the servant with the silver salver appeared, everyone looked to Giselle, especially since, on the previous initiation day, Petra had been overlooked in favor of the komtesse’s favorite.

  But this time, the servant bore two cards on the tray.

  One for Giselle.

  And the other for Arabella.

  Chapter Six

  Giselle lay on her bed but she could not rest. In less than an hour, they would be summoned to the komtesse’s chambers. As long as Giselle had been at Katzenhalle, she’d never known the komtesse to request two kittens simultaneously.

  Nerves tangled in her stomach. Part of her worried the eagle-eyed komtesse had seen the looks exchanged in the den, that she knew what had already transpired.

  Another part of Giselle feared for Arabella. Although she’d borne the brunt of the rigorous initiation, it was nothing in comparison to the komtesse’s sexually aggressive behavior.

  What if Arabella balked? Worse, what if the komtesse ordered Giselle to mete out punishments to the newly inducted kitten?

  I have a plan…

  Arabella’s whispered words snaked through Giselle’s head. What sort of plan, she wondered?

  She twisted onto her side. Suppose they were able to escape. What then? Guilt flared as she imagined walking away from a woman who was clearly smitten with her.

  Images welled of Arabella’s dark head sensuously bobbing as they’d made love the night before. Giselle squeezed her thighs together at the feelings the memory aroused. Blood engorged her clitoris, leaving a softly throbbing pulse in its wake. She inhaled.